


Two Spies and a Civilian

by theredhoodie



Series: The Man From Uncle Drabbles [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, F/M, Multi, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhoodie/pseuds/theredhoodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a British spy and a Russian spy team up to protect an American civilian with ties to Germany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Spies and a Civilian

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh I rewrote my favorite movie scene with these characters and I loved it so much! I had loads of fun with the nicknames :) PS I tried to write it casually without ships so sorry about the mess that is my relationship tags.
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://maxrockertansky.tumblr.com/post/128047740193/ilanawexlr-replied-to-your-post-since-ive-now).

“I don’t see how this is going to work,” Steve said for the fifth time that morning.

“It will not work if you keep saying that,” Natasha said, bent over a radio-tracking device propped up on the desk in her room. Her bright red hair was coiffed perfectly and held back in pins, her words dripping with tribute to her home country.

Steve kept fidgeting with his tie in the mirror, growing surer and surer that you could see the tracking device attached to it.

“Confidence is key,” Peggy said, pushing herself away from where she was leaning against the doorframe to the walk-in closet and bathroom. She looked much more casually dressed than Natasha, her hair straight and pushed back from her face which held very little makeup.

“We should not be using a civilian,” Natasha went on, pressing perfectly painted and sculpted nails against a switch on the board. “This would work better with a trained spy.”

“You, are not helping the matter, Widow,” Peggy shot back, sending a narrow eyed glare in the Russian’s direction before turning to Steve. She reached up to smooth Steve’s collar and readjusted his tie so it was both flat and straight.

“You will be fine,” she said in a softer tone than she normally used.

Steve, while he was tall and broad and muscular, was not much of an actor and his external appearance did nothing but hide the nerves twisting up his stomach. “I hope you’re right,” he replied.

“Shall I leave?” Natasha quipped from across the room, leaning back in the elegant chair, her arm elegantly tossed over the back.

Peggy’s hand fell from its resting place on Steve’s chest and she turned to the other woman. “There will be no need for that,” Peggy said, taking a side step away from Steve and crossing her arms. The real-yet-fake engagement ring on her finger shone brightly in the sun and she tucked it under her elbow before walking over to Natasha. “Is it not working?”

Natasha’s eyes lingered on Steve for a moment longer, a frightening smirk alight on her red stained lips, before she turned to Peggy and the device. “It was working fine,” she said, pointing at the light that should have been illuminated. It was currently dark. “I think you have turned it off.”

Steve turned back to the mirror to lift the tie and attempt to turn on the tracker himself.

“Would you like to check it again, Miss Union Jack?” Natasha asked, each word falling deliberately off of her tongue.

Peggy, leaning against the edge of the table, glanced at the other woman and tried to hide her surprise at what the Russian was suggesting. “I’m sure Steven can figure it out for himself,” Peggy said, though her voice had lost its edge.

Natasha broke into a grin, getting to her feet and sauntering over to Steve in her bare feet. She put her hand on his shoulder and turned him around. “You are not so useless,” Natasha said quietly, to Steve’s surprise. “Just do not tell her I said that.” Natasha clicked over a button and smoothed down Steve’s tie for the hundredth time that morning.


End file.
